Monster Hunter: The Dragon Wars
by Xenolord
Summary: When civilization as you know it ends, and creatures straight out of fantasy start to take over, how do you coup? T for strong images.


Disclaimer: The Monster Hunter games are owned by Capcom.

Author's Note: Just a little thing I thought up.

Monster Hunter: The Dragon Wars

Prologue

The end is never really the end, is it? This is one of those stories you hear about... the kind where the it starts when everything ends. No one really knows the hows and whys of their arrival, and even fewer really cared. Some speculate it was the underground nuclear testing we had started in the twenty first century, others had cited shifting tectonic plates as the responsible party. Speculation is all well and good, but it doesn't change the fact it happened. In the twentieth year of the twenty first century, human kind was brought to the edge of extinction. We had always believed that humans had been created on this Earth as the sole rulers... the top of the food chain, undeniable masters of our own fate. We were wrong.

They came like a wave upon human civilizations; creatures out of a horror story, or video game. They descended upon our cities like locusts, routing everyone they saw and consuming them without a flicker of remorse. Cities were razed in a day, and whole countries were thrown into chaos in a manner of hours. The military was powerless to stop the tide squirming death which was quickly claiming our planet. Don't misunderstand... they could be killed, of course, but the cost of one monster's death was the extinction of hundreds of human lives.

They swarmed us for a year, humanity pushed to the fringe of oblivion... refugees on their own world. It was then when we were offered our first glimmer of hope to stem the tide. Some genius somewhere got it in their heads that the could use the parts of the creatures themselves to arm and armor themselves... armor from their hides and weapons from their claws and teeth... suicide for some... salvation for others.

So we fought back. The weak ones fell pray to the humans who fought them, and in time and with skill, those humans became the foundation our society looks to for protection. The Hunter's Guild is what they called themselves. They've trained countless humans the skills they need to survive in the wild and... perhaps most importantly, the skills needed to confront these creatures and survive.

We've lost a lot in the last five years since they came. Infrastructure, industry and mechanization to name a few. A lot of us lost family or friends, and we've all lost a lot of what makes us human. Thanks to the Hunter's Guild, however, humanity has what it hasn't in a very long time. A fighting chance.

I watch the scorched countryside slowly roll by, the sound of rickety wooden wagon wheels rolling gently across the cracked asphalt a dirge for the fighting to come. We can't afford to over train... some may call the six weeks we Hunters spend in training absurd... the short time frame impossibly short to train the kind of soldiers we need. Some call these naysayers correct... I call them fools. They don't understand... they can't understand... can't or won't I've yet to decide which. These are the same fool's who can't tell a Wyvern from a Dragon. I watch the little man who's driving the cart, the two horses lashed to the reigns as they pull us along. He's what we call Wyvern-Scarred, his face is slashed and burned... He looks gruff and tough, probably ex military. He looks like he's seen more fighting then I have.

"See something you like, Hunter?" He asks. As I've been watching him, he's been watching me. Snapping out of my own world, I sit up straight and clear my throat.

"No, sorry." I reply gently. "I was just thinking." He nods sagely to me as he settles further into the seat. He knows I want to ask him... It's a question that's just sitting on the tip of my tongue, waiting to be given voice. I shouldn't... It's rude and inconsiderate. We've all lost someone, and asking about it just dredged up unnecessary memories. He speaks again so I don't have to.

"What's your name, Lass?" He asks with a droll, the lower right side of his mouth sagging. I blink at the question. A lot of Hunters like myself join to hide their loss, or to get revenge. A lot of Hunters use it as a way of starting a new life... to begin anew. I don't even know why I joined.

"Dyenes." I respond quickly with a nod. It wasn't my birth name, you could imagine. When I signed on, the Hunters Guild doesn't ask for your name to run a check on you. They do it just to have something to call you by. Alternate names are more then common. He seemed to take my name in stride, his head nibbling with the rocking of the wagon. He fell quiet again after I introduced myself, almost as if he were thinking.

I don't know where we're going. I was assigned to a place to the west of the center of all this hell. Some call it Ground Zero, others the Tainted Sea... a place on the east coast of what was once the United States. I've been travelling for days now... three, maybe four. I've lost count past all the burnt buildings and ruined farmsteads. Rotating to look in the back, I watched the lashed wooden crates shift about in the back, feeling my back pop a little through the silk clothing I wear. It wasn't much, but hopefully the reinforced silk would protect me from most of the smaller monsters I've been told are rather prevalent in the area I'm being sent to.

I had a dry throat and my heart pounded in my chest. Sixteen and being thrown into the thick of things... I suppose the luxuries of before the Dragon War - that's what everyone started calling the cataclysm five years ago - were gone just like our lifestyle. My mother told me that... had it not happened, I would have been almost finished with high school now, almost ready to become a woman. I guess age doesn't make an adult anymore. "Hey, lass?" The scarred man speaks, drawing my attention back to the wagon ride. He smiles gently at me and nods. "You'll do fine. Don't worry." I must have been wearing my concern openly, the man's words a solid rock amongst the tempest raging in my heart and soul.

"Thank you." I respond as he takes a horn from his side. It looks weathered, brass or bronze maybe. Placing his lips to it, he gives it a hard blow, the bellowing sound resonating across the dismal field. I look up to see why he had sounded so. Before me is a wooden wall, ten - maybe twenty feet high, the tops of the wooden logs sharpened to spikes to deter fence jumpers. There came the sounds of life from within, men barking and shouting orders as wood pickets groaned. The heavy door swung inwards, splitting cleanly in the middle to allow us entrance. I stood best I could against the rocking wagon and took in the sights. It was a village - or at least the ratings of one. Men carried logs and bones on their shoulders as women gutted and cleaned fish and small animals.

It was so primal, so primitive. In five years, this is what we've been reduced to. In some ways, the sight was depressing; the skyscrapers and towering beacons from my youth were now distant memories, our old cities used as nests and hunting grounds. On the other hand, this showed our ingenuity as a species, to be able to take the hand we were dealt and still find the resources, skills and tenacity to carve our continued existence in the new, alien land.

Some of the men waved at the scarred man as he rode into the small village. They ignored me for a time, but I figured the supplies the man brought were a comfort to this band of people. I took the time to do a headcount. Five... six... seven... when it was all said and done, I had counted a total of eleven people in the village. So small... the cart came to a stop before a rickety building near the center of the village, it's graduated roof rose high above the patchwork buildings around it. After we stopped, I jumped out and helped the man unload. Once the crates were safely on the ground, he smiled to me. "Thanks, Hunter." I reclaimed my weapons from the rear - a pair of crafted blades with a small carving of one of the small bird-like carnivores that loved plainsdwelling so much. I found the hook on the small of my back and stowed the blades.

After a few moments, the large building opened and two figures - both female - exited. Twelve and thirteen. The figure on the left was tall and lithe, her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail down her back. She smiled at me with regal appeal, waving gently. The second figure was a bit shorter then the first - probably around my own height. She wore a well-used white blouse and blue skirt. I recognized it as a former school uniform from the old high school that was in the city. She seemed a bit more energetic then the other. The taller figure walked right towards me, her lips curled into a little smile as her eyes sized me up, practically stripping me naked with her gaze.

"Welcome." She spoke simply, opening both arms towards me. "Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Ikotu Village. It's not much, but as her , I wish that you see it as home." I heard it was common for hunters to live in the villages they defend, a price the villagers pay for safety. She held her hand out, to which I grasped firmly, yet gently. She laughed.

"Thank you." I responded to her welcome.

"Hiya!" Came the other girl, her face alight with joy. "Welcome welcome!" She wrapped her arms around me and practically crushed me with a hug. The village chief smiled.

"This is Amber. She is our link to the Hunter's Guild. She will be handling all official Guild business that comes our way. Tell me, Hunter, what's your name?"

"Dyenes." I answer once more, the woman nodding. She smiles a bit and puts an arm around my shoulder.

"A beautiful name. Follow, please. I want to gift you with something." She walked me down a large street, a few more people popping out of small, thrown together houses. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen and seventeen. She stopped at one particular house which looked leagues better then the others - like a photo preserved in time - it looked saved from the fighting. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she faced me to the curtain covering the doorway. "I would like for you to consider this place home. We did our best to restore it to it's previous glory. We hope you like it." She practically pushed me - gently, of course - inside.

The inside was lavish, a huge fluffy bed against the wall, a massive chandelier above; small little votive candles basking the room in gentle light. On the wooden table was a small piece of paper and a tiny little box. Near the bed was a figure, the large wooden chest open wide as the person was looking about.

"Sera?" The Chief spoke gently, the figure leaping ten feet in the air, bashing her head against the lid. She helped, growled and exhaled slowly, vigorously rubbing her head. "Why are you in the Hunter's storage chest?"

"Cha-Chief! I was... just dropping off a few... erm... presents before he got here!" She was so flustered she didn't see me.

" -She- is already here." She blinked at me, her face going deep red as she looked at me.

"A girl..." She didn't look much older then I was...

"Everyone's always surprised..." I rolled my eyes at this, the village chief simply laughed. It was true that few women had taken up the profession... call it echoes of the old world. Their were twelve people in my class when I was going through training... eleven of them were men. I can't really blame the sexism at the moment. Sera looked in the box, then dove once more in.

"Sera..." The Chief's voice was calm, Sera looking embarrassed.

"Yes, Chief..." She looked a bit like a kicked puppy. "Uhm..." Sera began, walking to me with her head hung low. "We-welcome to I-Ikotu Village. It'sapleasuretomeetyouI'vegottogo." Her sentence rambled into one long word as she fled the room as quickly as possible. I couldn't help but suppress a chuckle at how fast the girl fled.

"Please, Hunter. Rest for now, for I fear we have need of your services in the morning." I gave her a nod and went to the chest bear the bed. "I've placed a few toys in their for you. Please, do not hesitate to use them." Looking inside, I saw what she meant by toys. Laying gently at the bottom, as if they lived there, was a large knife with a bent blade, sitting next to a weathered, but still well-maintained pistol. Scattered about the pistol was about ten or so clips of ammunition for it. Crude... but even it had a purpose. Sitting under the pistol was a large, bulky manila envelope. Look at it later.

I took hold of the bent knife and hooked it to my belt - never hurt to go prepared, right? - and then took a second glance at the pistol. Why not. It, too, went onto my belt on the other side as the knife. My vision looked about the room a few more times, gazing at all I could near their other side of the bed was a well-kept bookcase, filled to bursting with old books. Fatigue overtook me quickly, the softness of he bed calling to me. Throwing myself onto the bed, I closed my eyes and was instantly knocked out.


End file.
